Chương 993: Day Nine Hundred And Ninety-One

Dear Diary, I'm torn. Okay, yeah, that much is obvious, given how I had to be stitched back together, but some kind of literal metaphoric hole torn in my Soul is not what I was talking about. Y'know, I think several English Language scholars back in the world of my birth might have spontaneously died of aneurysms just from me using 'literal metaphoric hole' correctly. Since it was some kind of literal hole in my Metaphoric self, one that shit kept draining out of.

Then again, I did use it correctly, so maybe they all died of spontaneous overwhelming orgasms instead. Honestly I'd prefer that. I might be a Death Goddess, but I don't want to be one of those creepy fuckers that wants people to die. So I guess maybe I'd rather they all just got a surprise mess in their pants for no particular reason, because while I've got big feels about being a Death Goddess, I've mostly come to terms with being a Lust Goddess. Love Goddess?

Fuck, I'm both, and I feel a little dumb that I'm only just realizing that now. Then again, I think I've pondered that before, but you'd think it would be one of those 'of course I am' things, not a 'holy shit, I am' thing. All that said, when I say I'm torn, I mean I'm of two minds about something. Specifically, about letting my Wives and Worshippers arrange my life.

Letting my ladies and lovers and little ones manage my calendar, so all I've got to do, all I'm supposed to do, is show up, do what or who I'm supposed to, then at the end of the day head home and, y'know, do exactly the same thing. Living a life where the biggest decision I have to make is how I deliver orgasms to my live-in lovers, because when I'm on the Altar they even take that decision away, and I'm just there to do unto them as they want done. I mean, that's a big part of it. Agency.

When I let somebody else run my life I'm giving up most of that. All of it some days. That makes me feel kinda guilty in more ways than one. I feel like I'm not being a proper Adult, not making my own decisions, not doing my part of the emotional and mental labor of deciding where I'm supposed to be and what I'm supposed to be doing. I feel like I'm being childish, and childish bullshit is exactly how the world wound up in the fucked up state I found it.

Thing is, thinking about that, about the way I found the world, about the Deities who fucked it up before I got here, reminds me why I've willingly chosen to surrender my Agency. I think it all goes back to those first conversations with Saffron and Marie about our relationship.

Specifically the ones about Marie, when she hadn't yet reminded everyone who the Maenad Maids really were, when she practically demanded the Title and position of Concubine, and I wound up kinda terrified that I would inadvertently violate her Consent. I asked her for things, politely, and for anything that could be considered sus, I didn't even ask. Just surrendered my Agency to her, asked her to maybe leave me clean and mostly in one piece, and let go. Holy fuck on a stick that's what Siobhan does with me.

That's what Saffron does when one of us decides it's Penance Time. I'm only realizing that right now because I've never really pondered that utter release of tension that comes with deliberate Agency surrender. Okay, I don't remember doing so. Could be the amnesia, could be the Soul damage, could be me erasing bits of myself, could be taking brain damage and sucking it back into myself. Could just be me being my terminally ADHD self.

But right now I'm pondering the thought that when I got here, I'd had a decade of hypervigilance at the very least. I never thought it was possible to let go of it. Then, at the lowest point I'd hit at the time, I let go. Completely, accepting that I might not survive, offering myself as a living sacrifice to my Murder Mittens. Okay, not so much 'sacrifice' as, well, 'offering'. An offering given to her in the Altar of her little metal bathtub.

I let go, surrendered my Agency completely, and as a consequence received the most intense orgasms I'd ever experienced to that point. I'm just now realizing that might have forged some maybe unhealthy, maybe dangerous connections in my poor excuse for a Goof brain. Like, linking 'stupidly Heroic shit' and 'excruciating pain' with 'mind-blowing pleasure'. Eh. Fuck it. Not the dumbest thing I've ever done. Also, not the hardest I've come at the claws of my magnificent Maenad.

In case anyone is wondering, I'm not sure myself. The three of them teaming up on me until it knocked all four of us unconscious on the day we defiled our Darling in the most delicious way possible immediately jumps to mind, but then there's when she demonstrated that hip dislocating orgasm move, which to be clear made me come so hard I didn't actually notice the pain of my hip being popped out of the socket.

Granulating her hips was, I dunno, I'm not sure it felt better, or more intense, or what, but definitely wound up being another moment I just let go and enjoyed. Fuck, that's a big part of all of that. Whether it's me letting them do as they will unto me, or them doing the same to me, there's that release of hypervigilance, that permission to just chase pleasure in the moment, to grab it and swallow it whole and let it fill me to bursting. Shit, I hope I didn't do that.

Fill myself to bursting one too many times until I literally burst. Seriously, I noted the other day that most of my 'job's done, checking out for a bit' have been at times when I was emotionally overwhelmed, not physically overwhelmed. The fact that the Venn Diagram of the two is a sunny side up egg is just another food metaphor that I will gladly swallow along with anything else my ladies put in my mouth.

I'm vaguely curious if that one fascina is still lingering down in my belly somewhere, although if it is I've never felt it there, nor has anybody else, even when the boys were all up in my guts. At any rate, while part of me feels guilty about making my ladies do all the work of organizing my life, two other parts have very convincing arguments to tell that part to shut the fuck up and soldier.

First of all is how by willingly surrendering my Agency with the caveat that I will take it back if anybody does anything, y'know, rapey or exploity to someone other than me, I'm avoiding the worst part of the here and now Gods, where they force their wills on those around them. I'm doing the Uno Reverse Card version of 'Jesus Take the Wheel'. Fuck, my version is even alliterative, what with it usually being 'Worshippers Take the Wheel'.

Now I wanna have, like, posters or stickers or best of all a tee shirt with 'Worshippers Wield Wheel' or some other bullshit like that for Revel nights. Along with 'if I'm surrendering my Agency', or really 'retaining only the lightest grip on my Agency', I'm less likely to violate the Agency of others, there's also the fact that all of my partners and at least one of my larger collection of Clerical Ladies are just fuckin' better at it than me.

Yeah, I can parlay my shit wrecking core competency into the ability to put together Rube Goldberg shit wrecking devices like the Liberation of Calverton, but those don't build things. Those remove obstacles blocking the path to a better world, but they don't move the world toward it. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. So, y'know, that's where I'm at right now.

When there's an obstacle, if another one comes up, I slip the traces and stomp that shit into fertilizer, because it's usually some kind of solidified shit. But most of the time I'm just gonna be letting my ladies harness me up and pulling like nobody else can pull. Because I can. Pull like nobody else can. Okay, I'm sure some other continent spanning mass of tentacles could pull as well as me, but I don't see one of those around anywhere. In case anybody's wondering, I had a lot of time to think today.

So yesterday, at some point after my Kitten slipped a surprisingly erotic totally metaphoric ice cube up my ass pondering how my future piercings might include something that kept me spread open like an orchid in full bloom, Dad finally finished up my slow, painstaking Soul realignment. Murmuring, "please hold still, Daughter. This may involve some discomfort," he did something.

I think whatever he did had some relation to the whole 'Soul Ace bandage' thing he'd done before, but where that had basically been some kind of overall compression sock around me to keep me together until I could stop for real Healing, this felt both solider and more delicate. Like instead of just wrapping it around me, he gently nudged bits into spots where there ought to be crevices and shit, then layered on more and more until it felt more like a plaster cast than a fabric bandage.

"Will she be able to move like that?" Saffron asked. Loki nodded, then shrugged, then nodded again.

"Physically, once the after effects of her Soul realignment have worn off, she should be able to move normally. She might find Shaping a bit clumsy, and I'd recommend she take that slowly and carefully in any case, since her Soul is going to be a while healing." I shook my head and sighed. Kinda wish you guys could just magic me healthy. They both chuckled, and Saffron said, "we both wish we could too, love, but this is the price of your great strength. None of us can force you back to health.

At best we can remove obstacles to your healing, provide some support, and ensure you get proper nutrition and rest, that you might heal yourself naturally." I chuckled. Sorta. Hard to do anything, really. I remember you saying nothing about me is 'natural'.

"If the world was natural when you arrived, I prefer artifice." Loki outright laughed at that.

"Strange, that as a Deity, an Elder God, it is among my duties to ensure that the world retains its natural state as is just and right and good, and yet I agree completely with your wife." Weird, a thought slipped out of my brain before I could stop it. Natural things grow and... Change. I think they might have said something after that. Nothing profound, nothing super important. Quiet affirmations that what I'd thought at them wasn't complete bullshit.

Quiet farewells, and an invitation for Loki to Co-Locate back to the Homestead with us, which he almost turned down, then shrugged and accepted, I think when he realized Sigyn had gone back to the Homestead. I couldn't really get over what had slipped out of my own brain mouth. Like, I'm an Incarnation of Terror. Devourer of Reality. Walking Twilight of the Gods.

Part of me kept wondering how any of that could be 'natural', while some deep part of me that I'd never connected with before, not like this, absolutely resonated with that. Hit the bed, surrounded by kids and kits and two new kids who no longer made me itch in the slightest when they cuddled up to me, not to mention a quartet of ladies I'd do unto until we all passed out if I could move, and fell asleep before I could do anything more than half thinking about playing with any of them.

Dreamt of all my ladies, every one of my High Clergy, watching Mom and Dad on the wide screen. What with my whole inability to articulate in those dreams, I couldn't even go on about brain bleach. Objectively, don't blame any of my ladies in the slightest for the very obvious neuron activation watching the pair. Subjectively, Mom and Dad going multiple rounds on my bed. Even looking directly at the 'camera' like they knew everybody was watching, without the slightest sense of shame.

Not like either of them had anything to be ashamed of. Woke up more amused than anything. Wanted to poke Dad to wake him up, realized I was right in the middle of the 'the body you have dialed has been disconnected, please try your call again' post-Soul Realignment stage, and instead thought, Dad! Worked about as well as a poke in the ass would have, as he jerked and blinked where he lay with Sigyn curled around behind him as the big spoon.

Lyman's not big, after all, and while Sigyn is absolutely feminine, she is also an absolute unit, whereas Lyman is, at best, wiry. Okay, maybe a stocky kind of wiry, but mostly that 'looks good in leather pants' wiry. Suddenly really glad I'd never given in to any of my inappropriate urges back in my first Season here, I thought, yes, Dad, you two can use the toys. Just not any of the leather ones, please. Thank you? Yeah, he was definitely subtly enjoying messing with me.

Fair's fair, I enjoyed messing with him too. Why not those, if I may ask? Sure. It's all Mimic-hide. He froze. That's... Somewhat gruesome. Eh. Ever hear the phrase 'that which is dead cannot die'? That got me the slowest of brain reset blinks. You mean...? Yeah. Full range of motion and full tactile sensation. So if Mom wants to use one of the fascina as a strap, she's gonna have to get her own harness. Tabitha!

My lips didn't curl, because that was well outside my range of motion, but I felt them try as I thought, see, that's exactly what I don't want to hear you screaming right in the middle, and it would be even worse if I could feel it. No thank you. I'll stick with my normal vanilla kinks like hair eating and dismemberment. At that point he couldn't keep it in, and woke everybody else up with his laughter. Through the day today, I wound up being a life-sized fully posable Tabitha action figure.

I even had the kung fu action grip, which let me hold a big umbrella to shade my less melanated kids when everybody wanted to go outside and play. Funniest thing had to be the new kids getting worried about me, only to have all their new siblings assure them that I was fine, that 'Mama's just like that sometimes'. Best and worst part of the day was after lunch, though. Well, mid-afternoon, when the kids came back inside and split up to do things in smaller groups.

On the way in, Saffron showed up and said, "I'm going to borrow your Mama for a bit, girls. Please take care of Siobhan and listen to Tallulah and Marie." After being reassured by our horde that they did in fact know the basic rules of civility on the Homestead, Saffron scooped me up and stepped us both to the Bedroom, where she sat my ass on the end of the bed, my legs dangling to the floor, her arms around me holding me up.

"I've set up your schedule for the Season, love." My mouth was just about working normally by that point, so I said, "you brought me here to tell me about my schedule?" She smiled. No, she definitely Grinned. Then she slid her hands down my sides, letting gravity flop me back on the bed.

"Not exactly. I did need to ask you a very important question before that, though."

"Really? What question?" She Shapeshifted just enough, and flopped against my belly. In the mirror I realized it almost reached to my belly button, which should be Way Too Big, but none of the emotions flooding through me were fear. Fear adjacent at best.

"Boy or Girl?" I took a deep breath, realizing that while some of those urges and emotions were leaking out, they were 'leaking out slowly', not 'pouring out entirely'. I smiled at her in the mirror and gave her the only sane answer I could.

"Yes."